"At the moment, it seemed like a good idea".
This is a sentence that comes up often when I have to tell what happened, or why did I behave a certain way about it. At the moment, back then, it seemed like the only thing to do, or the best behaviour to keep.
It was about a month ago, at a party... I hadn't exactly crashed it, I had been officially invited. Only, to actually explain how I ended up at that disco pub, it's a really long story.
I wasn't even drunk (which may actually come as a surprise, given my latest tendencies when it comes to drinking alcohol. Although, I'd like to stress, I never seem to manage to actually get drunk. I only drink a lot, become quite giddy for 30 to 40 minutes, and need to pee constantly. That's cider for you.)
So, I was not drunk, somehow on a party and (this is even more improbable, I reckon) on the dance floor.
And there he was.
When he asked me [yes, he actually asked for permission! And say all you want, I think it was cute. Also, he may have gotten kicked in the nuts otherwise, I am extremely jumpy. And especially clueless when it come to romantic moves. I had no idea.] "Can I kiss you?" I said (nodded? Did I even answer?) "Yes."
Again, at the moment it seemed like a good idea (Not that I regret it now, or ever).
And the rest of the night is gone in a sort of haze, and I don't remember anything.
Ok, ok. "The rest of the night" is probably around 2 hours, because they shut the place around 5- but still. I know we spent a good part (if not all) of those two hours happily making out. But that's pretty much it.
And then, since I am really awkward, we had to leave and I didn't know how.
He had made very clear he wished to leave together, my place or his place it didn't matter. I made just as clear it wasn't going to happen. But it would have been awkward if we were to go away from there at the same time but not together; right?! So I signalled my friend "We have to go - now!" - and we left.
And here's the awkward(-est) part.
Again, I don't remember much but I'm pretty sure it went something like this...
(I had been trying to leave for a bit, but every time I mentioned going he kissed me again and... well, I got distracted. Eventually, I managed - but it's not like we actually talked, and I really didn't know what to say...! And I guess I hate confrontations and I have terrible social skills. But still, I feel pangs of guilt at the thought.)
"Well, thanks for tonight, it was very nice."
And I walk away.
I am a terrible terrible person!
At the moment it seemed like a good idea. The only possible move, really.
What do you say to someone with whom you've basically eaten each other's faces' off for the last hour and a half, and had a probably 2min long conversation?
"Thanks" is just polite, really. And it had been (very) nice.
"Do you want to do this again sometimes soon?" - I couldn't possibly say that.
Besides, I wasn't sure I wanted to sleep with him - certainly not that night, but maybe not ever.
What if I gave him my number? Then I'd be just a booty call.
What if we'd go out together? What if I didn't like him? That would be awkward.
What if I decided that no, I didn't want to have sex with him after all?
I didn't (don't) want to be a tease.
It's better left it like that.
(Then I spent something like 10 minutes looking for the friend that invited me to said party to say "hi", and I swear I couldn't find her anywhere; just when all I wanted was just to disappear, and feeling his eyes on my back all the time. Great.)
I don't even regret acting that way.
Yes, I wish I actually had some way to get in touch, but I still see why I acted that way. It made sense, it makes sense even now.
But, oh! I'm obsessing about it now.
Not about what happened - no (although, I think about it both often and fondly). About what didn't happen. I keep thinking about how it would be to have sex with him. And knowing that he's here, somewhere in this city; so there's the technical possibility of running into him... it's driving me nuts.
Because, you see, the possibility of course exists, but it's so remote it doesn't even makes sense mentioning. Stockholm is mcuh smaller than London or New York or New Delhi or even Rome; but it's still a capital. Yes, I know which metro line he lives on, but does he uses it? When? Going to o coming from where? The chances of meeting are minimal.
And then, even if we met...?
Would he recognize me? Still care? What does he even think of me (after leaving like that)?
Two (stupid ass) movie titles keep chasing each other in my head-
He's just not that into you.
He didn't ask for my number (I know why I didn't ask for his. But why didn't he ask for mine?), so maybe he doesn't care - maybe he even forgot at all about me.
But then I have my friends, to whom I turn for advice, that tell me either "just forget about him already", or "It's impossible that he has forgot about you, you don't make out with someone for over an hour without breaks and the forget about it. Besides, he had a stupid ass smile on his face when you left, he was clearly happy. Maybe too stuck to actually being able to ask you anything."
Which is not really helpful.
At the same time, if it's "destiny" that we meet, it will happen. You can't force fate and blah blah blah. But it doesn't help that I have to use that same goddamn metro line to go to work every day! (Of course, at times when normal people are already at work for hours, just so the chances of actually meeting are even scarcer. I know, just my luck).
Recipe for disaster. Or, at least, sleepless night - spent remembering the feeling of his hands on my body, and imagining him beside me, solid and warm; so I could just reach out and...
(I know what's the problem, I'm way too horny. But then again, what's the solution to that...? Exactly, it's a vicious circle.)